


greener pastures

by casualpeaches



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, aziraphale and crowley retired and live in a cottage, because theyre GAY, thats all you need to know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 01:23:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19218760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casualpeaches/pseuds/casualpeaches
Summary: “What would you think of buying a horse?”Crowley slowly set his mug of coffee down, mulling over the question. His angel was so adorable. He was sure that weeks of research and books and reading online had lead up to the quiet question, asked in the early morning as they enjoyed the quiet little cottage they had retired to.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this whole work is beta'd by the lovely and amazing helpivefallenintoafandom! enjoy! <3

“What would you think of buying a horse?”

Crowley slowly set his mug of coffee down, mulling over the question. Aziraphale was standing over their kitchen sink, looking out the window above it. Since unofficially retiring, Zira had spent a lot of time looking out that window, as it was his second-favorite in the little cottage. The cottage had a good bit of land around it, all of which was beautiful, but it was mostly plain grass and flowers, compared to the bit that was outside of the kitchen. That was where Aziraphale had fenced off a little section of yard for gardening, and he had several small plots of flowers and vegetables, all separated and in raised beds. He loved tending to them almost as much as he loved just gently considering them from inside the house.

“Why do you want a horse?” Crowley responded, setting down his pen on the table. He had been lazily sketching, as he often did in the mornings.

Aziraphale shrugged, doing his best to look very nonchalant. “I just think it might be nice, and it’s somewhat of a stereotype for people to buy a horse once they’re retired, and we have already bought a cottage on a plot of land, which is also a stereotype…” he trailed off a little.

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “I get the feeling that you have put a lot more thought into this than you are trying to let on.”

The angel looked down into the empty sink, fidgeting with his hands. “Well, uh, I may have, I went to a lovely little horse show and they’re just so—so neat, and the humans have made so many different _kinds_ of them now—”

“I think we’ll need two,” Crowley interrupts.

Zira turned from the sink to look at him, looking for a joke in his golden eyes. There was none.

“I think I’ll get jealous if you’ve got one all to yourself, don’t you? And we could go on quaint little rides together, that’d be very stereotypical of us, wouldn’t it?”

Aziraphale was grinning from ear to ear as he bent down to kiss Crowley. He should have known that his love would encourage the idea.

…

Aziraphale, lover of all things genuine, took a few weeks to find horses that were for sale and already in a pair. Crowley came with him to a few of the barns, usually bringing a sketchbook and drawing while Zira asked his Very Researched questions and browsed the options. On one particularly warm day, Crowley had opted to stay home when Aziraphale announced that he was going to go look at a pair of geldings.

It might have made him sad that his husband didn’t come, but he was much too excited because he was so sure that this was The One, or, the Two, rather. The ad online had outlined that it was an odd couple but that they needed to stay together because they would be quite upset to be separated. One was a Belgian Warmblood (which Zira had researched as soon as he read the breed name), and one was, well, a mutt. The warmblood was tall and lanky, a grey with red freckles and some small patches as well. The mutt was a bit stouter, with thick bones and a round outline. He was a brown and white pinto (not a breed, as Zira had found through thorough googling) and he had a lovely wavy mane and tail.

Aziraphale arrived at the barn just after 10 o’clock in the morning, and the stable was bathed in warm sunlight. The owner was a tall woman who looked very intimidating, but it was immediately obvious that she had a very soft heart. Her name was Sophia, and when she shook Aziraphale’s hand, he felt instantly sure that any and all animals in her care were extremely well taken care of. She showed him around the barn a bit, explaining the stalls and the paddocks and finally, the large pastures, and why each horse was placed where. Aziraphale made sure to ask only pertinent questions, and finally got to the very important one, which was, why is she selling the horses?

“These two just need a quieter environment then we have here. They’ll do best in a non-showing household, somewhere that they can have a big space just for them. All of the herds here just kind of stress them out.”

He smiled, feeling very triumphant. “Yes, well, my husband and I,” saying so never got old, “we aren’t going to show or anything of the sort. We’ve just retired, and we’ve wanted to own one for a while. Oh, but we are going to get both of them, of course.” He added on quickly when she turned a questioning look towards him.

 Finally, they came upon a section of the barn dedicated to grooming and standing patiently in two sets of ties were the two geldings. The grey looked much taller than he had in pictures, especially next to his stout friend. He was also, as in the pictures, oddly narrow. His man was cut fairly short and straight across, and his tail had a straight edge at the bottom as well.

“Rocky used to do dressage,” Sohpia explained. “The banged tail is very in style right now, and they keep the mane short so it can be braided.” Aziraphale nodded, then asked what level dressage he had done. Because yes, he had spent the last three weeks not sleeping at all (not that he needed to, but Crowley and he had gotten into a routine of sleeping most nights before then) and instead reading online about everything he could ever possibly need to know about horses.

“Fourth level and up,” she explained. “So, he’s got flying changes and all that. The bells and whistles, so to speak.”

“Right, what about the other one?”

“Oh, well,” She paused. “Tank’s only just green broke, he can walk, trot, and canter, and steer. But nothing fancy. But he’s very sweet and has a _very_ good ‘whoa’.”

Aziraphale sighed very contentedly. “They’re perfect.”

After he is given the opportunity to groom and pet both horses for a little while, Sophia asked him if he would like to give them a test ride. He explained that he had only ridden a horse a couple of times, and she said he would be fine to ride Tank, who didn’t mind at all if he was a little clumsy.

A groom tacked Tank up with a black western saddle, and Aziraphale inquired if there were saddles that he could buy with the horses, wanting to make sure he got ones that would fit them. Sophia assured him that he could take their individual saddles as well and explained that Rocky had a beautiful dressage saddle that he took with him to every owner.

In a large outdoor arena, Aziraphale sat, very unsurely, on Tank. Sophia instructed him from the ground on the basic commands, then let Aziraphale trot around as much as he wanted. He had to admit; it was _very_ fun! He felt like a human child riding a pony, just kind of plodding around with no real direction. Tank was sure-footed and went wherever Zira steered him and felt very sturdy. He was good and simple.

“Does your husband ride more?” Sophia asked as the groom took of Tank’s saddle and bridle. Aziraphale watched and remembered the order in which things came off—bridle first, then the breast collar, back girth, front girth (is it the front girth or the regular girth? It is in the front, but it also seemed to be the default), then the whole saddle. The groom was very practiced and the whole thing was choreographed and fascinating.

He pursed his lips and mulled over the question. “No, but he picks things up very well, and I’m not really sure he wants to ride so much as come out and groom when I do.”

She nodded. “Just wants to participate in your new hobby with you? That’s very sweet of him.”

He nodded, grinning.

They went into the barn’s small office and discussed when the horses could be dropped off, and how much trailering was going to cost, the added tack, et cetera.

Aziraphale took pictures of the two horses on his phone just before he left, excitement coming off him in waves as he drove home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> second chapter is fast bc im on a little writing spree! again beta'd by helpivefallenintoafandom! enjoy!

Crowley was sitting in his study when Aziraphale came home. He had a stick of charcoal in his hand and a look of intense concentration on his face. On a very large sketchpad in front of him was the outline of a horse. Though he had just started on this particular one, it seemed to breathe already. Crowley never aimed for realism in his work, considering it to be boring—no, he wanted his art to move about on the paper, and this horse did. It trotted quickly across the length of the pad; one pair of legs stretched impossibly forward while the other pair swung back. It was floating, in a moment of suspension, over some undrawn horizon line. Crowley was filling in the shape of the tail when he heard the front door open and shut again in rapid succession.

He looked up just in time to see his beautiful angel burst into the study, his whole being very nearly vibrating with energy.

“I take it you liked them?”

“Oh they’re wonderful, they’re just perfect, I rode one and he is just the sweetest animal I’ve ever met—” Zira cut himself off as he hugged Crowley, unable to contain the love he felt within his one little physical vessel, needing to put it somewhere.

“They’ll be coming here next week,” he went on, after releasing Crowley, who was standing now but still just patiently waiting for Aziraphale to get all of the excitement and words out of his system. “The one I rode is named Tank—”  _ kind of a ridiculous name _ , Crowley thought,  _ but I’ll get used to it _ . “and the other is named Rocky,”  _ really? _ “And they’re both wonderful and I just  _ know  _ you’ll love them, Crowley.”

Crowley grinned at his love, who had finally stopped to take a (not strictly necessary) breath and was looking at him expectantly.

“Yes, angel, I love them already and we haven’t even met yet.”

Satisfied, Aziraphale stepped out of Crowley’s space and looked over the demon’s shoulder, at the sketchpad sitting on the easel. His smile morphed from the small child that had just been told they’re going to Disney world smile into a full-grown adult appreciating a beautiful, priceless piece of art smile.

“Oh, darling, that one really is exquisite. You’ll hang it up when it’s finished, right?”

Truth be told, the little building they lived in did look like a cottage on the outside, small and quaint with stone walls. However, on the inside, it was not only quite modern in design, but it was also much larger than it appeared. Thusly, there was an entire room that they had renovated into a gallery, where Aziraphale’s photographs and Crowley’s art hung all the time, the pieces rotating in and out as new ones came in or they grew fond of an old piece again. Aziraphale largely dictated what went in it, not because Crowley didn’t love the room, but because he was much less particular about decoration and design than his angel was.

Crowley mirrored the soft smile and nodded. “Of course, love.”

…

The next week goes by slower than any week in the entirety of human history, at least according to Aziraphale. He spends the days very carefully conjuring a small, two stall barn, one with big doors on either end so that the whole thing could be left open in the field to only give the horses the option to be in it, and the stalls were only in case there was very bad weather. The inside was very neat and pretty, the whole thing made of sturdy wood and with a light stain. The wall between the stalls was short so that the two could still touch and talk to each other if they did need to be kept there for any length of time.

The day of their arrival finally came, and they were very prompt and on time at 11 o’clock in the morning. Aziraphale makes one last mental check that everything is ready, then goes out to meet the driver and his new animal companions.

The driver is a stout older gentleman who shakes Zira’s, and then Crowley’s, hand very firmly. He opens up the back door of the trailer and lowers the ramp, and leads one horse at a time out, guiding them as they walked backwards.

A much younger man, probably a groom or stable hand, was with him and helped carry the tack that came with the horses to the little tack room that inside the barn—the only actually closed off part of the interior.

The older man handed Tank’s lead rope to Aziraphale, then lead Rocky out in the same fashion and held his lead rope out to Crowley, who looked unsure only for a nanosecond before confidently taking the rope. He held close to the horse-end of the rope with one hand and held the slack of the rope in the other. He quite looked like someone out of a very fashionable equestrian magazine.

Aziraphale lead his stouter horse into the pasture first, and into the little barn at the gentlemen’s suggestion, to show them everything so that nothing would be startling. Crowley just followed behind, Rocky being much more interested in his handler than in the structure or stalls.

The two gentlemen had Aziraphale sign some paperwork and then waved goodbye, having completed their equine delivery. That left Crowley, appearing confident but really quite bewildered, and Aziraphale, who was too busy cooing over the bay horse to notice.

Crowley looked at the horse he was now responsible for. He had a very sweet, but refined face. If he were a human, Crowley thought he would be a model, with high cheekbones and dark eyes. As it were, he was a white horse checking his jacket pockets for treats.

He reached a hand up and stroked Rocky’s neck, not entirely sure where or even if horses liked to be pet. Rocky stood, not responding in any obvious way besides his ears flicking back and forth. He seemed to be trying to keep one ear pointed at Crowley, and one pointed at Aziraphale, but the two ears often switched roles for some unknown reason.

The demon had tried hard for a long time to not get too attached to animals, mainly because he had never wanted to keep them and also because of how terribly short their lifespans were. And anyone who knew Crowley even a little knew that he was, in short, terrible at not getting attached to things. He was attached to his car, his houseplants (in his own, odd way), and of course Aziraphale. It was only natural that he grew attached to the steed his angel had picked out for him. 

Over the next few days, Aziraphale traded out his opulent layers for simple pants and shirts and was nearly always in the pasture. He groomed both of the horses every day and made sure to thoroughly comb their manes and tails and sometimes would even go out in the middle of the night to check on them. He wasn’t so much as worried, but just a little bit obsessed with them. 

They were both a bit more like dogs than what he had imagined horses would be. Tank especially so, always following Zira around the pasture and into the barn. Rocky would be very sweet and loving if Zira came up to him, but didn’t follow him around. He waited patiently for adoration to be brought to him but did not seek it out. 

It took only three days before Crowley was joining Aziraphale when he went out to see them. He quite liked combing out Rocky’s mane and tail, and found it was similar to when he preened Zira’s wings, in that it was very repetitive and soothing. He enjoyed brushing his body with the soft bristled brush for the same reason. 

Aziraphale was the first to ride again, feeling more than a bit out of his depth but trusting that his wonderful steed would help him learn. He would tack up and ride around the pasture, Rocky following them from a distance so as not to look interested. He only ever walked and trotted, but even the trot was more so like a lazy jog. He thoroughly enjoyed how straightforward it was; you just point and shoot, so to say. 

He couldn’t help but be curious about Rocky, though. He knew what dressage was, of course, and how long the people and horses trained to be good at it. He also knew that riding Rocky would be far more out of his depth than riding Tank was. 

But how badly could it go? 

...

Crowley was out of the house running errands for things that they didn’t like to miracle anymore: groceries, art supplies, and maybe some new books. Aziraphale told him he didn’t feel like shopping today, which was a blatant lie, but Crowley didn’t mind if he wanted some alonea time. 

Aziraphale had stayed up the night before watching Youtube videos of dressage riding lessons. He had worn headphones and been in another room, taking every precaution not to wake Crowley. 

He brought Rocky into the barn and tethered him, then went about tacking him up. He had to wipe down the black saddle as it had gathered a bit of dust already. Rocky yawned as Aziraphale tightened the girth and fiddled with the stirrups. They were supposed to be fairly long for dressage, but he didn’t want to get on and not have his feet under him. 

He was thankful that the bridle the horse had come with only had one bit—upper level dressage horses often go with two bits, and two pairs of reins to match. That was definitely too much for Zira. He put the bridle on and lead Rocky out of the barn, carrying the little mounting block with him. 

He was able to get into the saddle, which he thought was a good start. Rocky thought that he should be settled in immediately, and started walking. This was already vastly different to Tank, who stood and waited to be told to walk. Aziraphale had no choice but to scramble for the other stirrup, giving up and reaching down to grab it with his hand. Well, at least his stirrups were an acceptable length. Not that Rocky took any concern at all, and was happily walking at a brisk march. Zira finally started to gather his reins, and did so until there was more or less no slack in them. 

“Whoa.” he said, trying to sound firm. Rocky took no notice.

He pulled on the reins a bit, an equal weight in each hand. Rocky bent his head down but did not whoa.

Aziraphale sat, rather perplexed, and also partially afraid that he was now on a runaway horse. Although, he was still only walking. A walkaway horse?

“Whoa!” He said it very firmly this time, and pulled substantially on the reins. Rocky came to a rather abrupt halt.

Aziraphale sat up straight, feeling rather accomplished. However, he had, on instinct, let the reins loose. Rocky took this as an invitation to continue walking. 

The angel, still feeling like he had bit off more than he could chew but determined to ride this tricky beast, decided to try steering next. 

He pulled with the left rein and gave slack in the right, the way Sophia had shown him on Tank. Rocky turned his head and neck so that they were bent in a graceful arch to the left, and continued to walk straight forward. Zira was fairly confident he could not see where he was going, so he panicked and let both reins go again so that the horse would straighten out. 

This was when he decided a tactful retreat was in order. He got the steed to halt, again very abruptly, and quickly dismounted before he could start walking again. Once on the ground, he looked around to find that they had walked nearly to the edge of the pasture. He wished he had figured out steering enough to make Rocky walk back to the barn, but he supposed it was just as well that he just walk back himself. 

After untacking and returning to the house rather sullenly, Aziraphale sat in the kitchen. He made himself a cup of cocoa even though it was late summer and still very warm out. 

He looked up when he heard the Bentley pull into the driveway. He forced a smile when Crowley came in the front door with paper grocery bags hanging off his arms. 

“Is there more in the car?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley shook his head and quickly deposited most of the bags onto the kitchen table, where the angel started to take things out and put them away. Crowley took the last couple of bags into his studio, then came right back to help put the groceries away.

“How were your errands? Was traffic okay?” 

Crowley shrugged. “Find, very uneventful, traffic was as bad as it always is.” Crowley felt like he was somehow not allowed to complain about traffic anywhere in or around London, since he had played such a huge part in making it awful. “What did you do while I was out?” 

It was a perfectly innocent question, but since Crowley had understood right away that Zira had wanted some alone time, he was a little concerned that something was troubling his angel. And the forced smile when he had come home did little to ease his worry. 

Aziraphale paused with one arm raised, holding a cereal box that he was putting in the cupboard. He knew that whatever he said, Crowley would know was a lie, but he didn’t want him to worry, so he had to say something. 

“Oh, I read about dressage a bit, and took a nap.” The first part wasn’t technically a lie, right?

He felt Crowley’s eyes on him as he finished putting away the cereal and started folding up the paper bags. 

“Dressage, huh? That’s what Rocky does, right?” 

Aziraphale nodded. 

“I might do a little reading too. It looks neat, from what I’ve seen of it.” 

And with that, he saunters away to his studio, leaving the angel to sip cold cocoa and wonder if the demon was up to something. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always kudos and comments are so so so appreciated!! love yall <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have music suggestions for this chapter but i don't know that they go super well, theyre just very dressage-y haha. also, the more i thought about it, the more dressage!crowley makes sense, so he is officially my little dressage bb.   
> the songs are: intentions by kiiara, i can't figure you out by hugh, hype by chloe tang, and lose it by oh wonder! c:

The next day, a fairly large and flat box came in the mail, addressed to Crowley but with no brand name on the outside. Crowley made sure that the mail came while his angel was tending to the horses, feeding them breakfast and grooming them. He took the box and stowed it away in his studio, and came back out just as Aziraphale came in through the front door. 

“Anything come in the mail?” He asked, eyeing the spot on the table where they usually set mail to go through it later. There was no mail there now, but the mail truck wouldn’t have come down the drive unless it had a delivery to make.

Crowley stuttered for a few seconds before getting out that he had bought some canvases online. Yes, something very boring that Aziraphale wouldn’t ask to see.

“Oh, wonderful!” 

“Yes, they are, and I’d like some quiet time in my studio today to work on them, if you don’t mind.” 

Aziraphale nodded, already going towards the large bookshelf that took over nearly an entire wall in their living room. “Of course dear, just let me know when you want to eat something.” He plucked a book from a high shelf and settled himself into the couch, ready to read for however long Crowley wanted time to himself.

Crowley had to take a moment to appreciate this, their dynamic—they were both so understanding of each other, knowing what it’s like to live for so long and spend so much of it only seeing each other for relatively small amounts of time. They loved spending time together, sure, but they also had the utmost respect for each other’s privacy. 

This very respect was what made it easy for Crowley to plan a somewhat-devious surprise for his angel.

He took a breath and went back into his studio, eyeing the box. He picked up a little knife from a desk and slit the tape along one long side, opening the box slowly. 

Inside were a pair of luxurious tall boots. They were made of the highest quality leather, stained black and polished so shiny he could see his golden eyes staring back at him. The tops were cut round, higher on the side that would face out, and had an artificial snakeskin patch there, also black but not as glossy as the boot. There were no laces on the front, as was customary of dressage boots, but a single zipper down the back that went from the heel to the very top edge, where it would sit just under one’s knee.

Crowley picked up one boot, then the other, and admired them for only a moment longer before he set them gingerly down on the floor to explore the rest of the package. He had also ordered some riding pants—called breeches by the sites that sold them—and a sleek black shirt that was more suited to riding than any of his. 

He was glad that very soon, he would be able to stop sneaking around Aziraphale. He should be very good at it, and maybe he was when it came to other people, but it was frustrating to do it to the love of his life. He had found every excuse possible to leave the house, offering to run errands on days they didn’t need anything, saying he absolutely needed one specific tube of paint or one specific marker. He was pretty sure that Zira was none the wiser, being thoroughly distracted by the horses. 

He had been getting riding lessons, dressage lessons, from a very prestigious trainer. It was a bit of a drive there and back, but he usually magicked himself closer to save time. He had been going at least twice a week since just before the horses came to live with them. He figured he would take two, maybe three more lessons before finally surprising Aziraphale.

He quickly stripped out of his clothes and tried on the breeches and shirt, which fit him perfectly. Then he unzipped one boot and carefully put it on, pulling the zipper up slowly. He had read that the zippers on these kinds of boots tend to be fickle, and though he could miraculously fix it if it did pop, he wanted to avoid having to do so. 

When he had both boots on, he stood up straight and conjured a full length mirror onto the wall across from him. He really did look like a model on the front of an equestrian catalog, if equestrian catalogs ever featured men (which they almost never did). 

He snapped his fingers to return all of the clothing and boots to the box, and his previous clothes manifested back onto him. He closed the box and stashed it behind a canvas that was leaning against a wall.

He would need just a couple more lessons now, before he would feel confident enough to show off his newfound skills to his angel. So he stalled and snuck out for a couple more weeks, hoping Aziraphale was keeping himself too busy to notice.

...

Aziraphale found himself awake quite suddenly one morning. He looked around quickly and found that there was no reason for him to have woken so abruptly, but then realized why he had--Crowley was not in bed in with him as he had been a few hours ago. 

Technically, neither of them needed to sleep at all, but it was nice and it was part of their routine. And Crowley, of the two, usually liked sleeping quite a bit more than Aziraphale. 

“Crowley?” Aziraphale didn’t need to shout, because he knew that the call would ring out through the house even if he whispered it. This made it very surprising when there was no answer.

He glanced at the clock, which read 6:17 a.m., and then at the window, which showed that it was still dark out. He slowly got out of bed, pulled on a robe, and walked to the kitchen to peer out the window. 

Past the garden, in the pasture, Crowley was leading Rocky into the barn. He looked very determined, and Aziraphale couldn’t help but wonder what he was up to. He went back into their room to change into presentable clothes, then went outside to find Crowley.

He found him in the barn, already partially through tacking up the elegant grey horse. His mane and tail were already combed out, and his mane was in neat, short braids. They weren’t the little button braids that dressage horses were shown with, but they looked very nice and gave him an air of professionalism nonetheless. 

“Crowley, dear, what are you doing?”

He looked up from where he had been adjusting the stirrups to accommodate his long legs. “Oh, Zira, you’re awake,” He let the stirrup hang, satisfied that if it weren’t correct he could fix it once he was on. “I just thought I’d, uh, go for a little ride.”

“Oh dear, I’m afraid—” The angel paused, wondering how best to word his next statement. “Sophia said he’s very complicated, and it would be best if only intermediate riders,” 

He trailed off, watching his love bridle the horse, looking very practiced indeed. He didn’t speak again until Crowley had finished and was holding the reins in one hand and was looking at him expectantly. Aziraphale, however, could not remember where he had been going with his statements.

This was mostly because he had just now noticed that Crowley was wearing proper equestrian riding pants and very expensive-looking boots. Which meant that not only did he do at least a minimal amount of research regarding riding apparel, he also went through the trouble of picking out (and probably buying, because they very rarely manifested clothes anymore) breeches and boots to ride in. 

“Are you going to ride with me or not?” Crowley finally asked, snapping his fingers so that Tank was in the barn and tacked up as well. He was grinning like he had been plotting, and for once Aziraphale hoped that he had been, and that he knew what he was doing. 

“Well, if you insist.” 

Aziraphale mounted his steed first, and they lumbered away from the step and turned so that Zira could watch Crowley. 

Crowley gathered the reins up on Rocky’s neck, keeping them good and short as he got on. He put extra effort into sitting down very gently into the saddle, and kept the reins tight as he slid his other stirrup on, and then let Rocky walk on. 

When he looked up again, he was met with a quite adorable sight--his angel was looking at him like he had just invented a water-powered car, or something equally amazing. 

“Ready to go, then?” He asked, relishing in the surprise on his love’s face. Aziraphale nodded, obviously trying to regain his wits. 

One of the decidedly un-demonic traits Crowley possessed was passion. When Crowley wanted to do something, he wanted to do it well, and he would pour all of his energy into doing it until he could do it well. This applied to a lot of things in his life; his art, firstly, but also before the Not-pocalypse, he had poured his energy into trying to do good things, even if they were small, and always with some excuse. Now, though, he didn’t need any excuse, and he had all the time in the world to learn nearly anything he wanted. So it was only natural that after several weeks of being taught dressage by a very high-level trainer, that he would be very, very good at it.

For a while, they just walked, Aziraphale plodding around and Crowley more or less leading them at a brisk, marching walk. The demon was mostly very quiet during this time, listening to the angel sweet-talk his horse as he petted his neck and shoulders. 

He decided, somewhat suddenly, that that was plenty of walking and now was the time to show off what he had been learning. He gathered his reins more, getting Rocky’s attention, and very gently squeezed with both legs. They took off together at a quick trot down the fenceline, Aziraphale trailing behind them with Tank’s lazy jog. 

Crowley catalogued, somewhere in his mind, how different Rocky was from the horse he had been riding at his lessons. The “buttons”, as they were, were in the same places, but his movements were vastly different. Clancy, a sturdy draft mix, had a big and lofty trot. He floated when he moved and had a large stride, where Rocky was more of a rocket-launch of energy with each step. This made some things easier and others harder--for example, posting with his trot was harder at first, because the movement underneath him launched him out of the saddle with considerable force, and so he found himself missing beats when he should have been sitting and standing in a consistent rhythm. He was only a bit sure that Aziraphale didn’t notice this, though. 

He found the weight in his reins to be very comforting, very similar to how Clancy felt. While Tank trotted around on a slack rein, dressage horses needed contact, which was how equestrians said that you had to keep your reins taut. It was the horse’s way of balancing, and to ride with slack reins was to cut off your way of communicating with them. 

Dressage horses also had to be steered differently. It took every aide you had to make one change, which meant that you had to be quite good at multitasking, which Crowley was. 

He came to a halt, then, to let Aziraphale and Tank catch up, Rocky chewing on the bit absentmindedly. 

“How did you—How do you—?” 

A triumphant grin spread across Crowley’s face, excited to have succeeded in keeping his lessons a surprise. “I may have invested in a few riding lessons,” He explained. “Because I wanted to ride with you and be halfway competent.”

A sweet blush came onto Zira’s cheeks. He hadn’t expected Crowley to really take any interest in the horses, besides what he had been doing, grooming and braiding now and again. He would have been happy just for him to come ride with him, but to take lessons? He should have known that’s why he seemed to always be out of the house. 

Aziraphale felt his heart swell at the thought. “For how long?” 

Crowley shrugged very nonchalantly and replied, “Since before they were dropped off.” 

The angel felt that he could die happily with the knowledge that his love, a demon, a being usually unable to have imagination or passion or love, had invested so much of his time to learning something for the sole purpose of being with him. 

Either by chance or by psychic understanding, Tank sidled up very close to Rocky. Aziraphale leaned up as far as he could, and Crowley met him in the middle. They kissed, lovingly, the way old couples should always kiss, like they had experienced the entire world together and kissing each other was an integral part of that world. 

“I love you so, so much,” Aziraphale said. “Indescribably so.”

“I love you too, angel. Just as much, if not more.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again everyone, this was beta'd by the amazing and beautiful helpivefallenintoafandom, this is the last chapter so i hope you looooove it!! (although im thinking of having a bonus chapter eventually, but the work is technically done c: )

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading! comments are greatly appreciated!!


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